Closing Time
by x Rajah x
Summary: Roger addresses the RENTheads on behalf of all the Bohos, in an attempt to lift their sprits concerning the concept of RENT leaving Broadway. A RENThead HurtComfort fic. My thoughts expressed through Roger and... well, you'll see!


Title: Closing Time  
Genre: Hurt/Comfort  
Rating: T  
Summary: As Mark Twain once said, "The best way to cheer yourself is to try to cheer someone else up." So here's my RENT reflection piece, as well as my (Roger's) method of catharsis and reaching out to the RENTheads of the world.

Notes: LONG author's note about RENT follows.

Oh and of course, I had to express my love of RENT predominantly through Roger dearest.

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Author's Note:

I am obviously, deeply disheartened at the closing of RENT on Broadway. When I found out, it all seemed sort of surreal, and no one around me could really understand how I was feeling, because the show means so much to me. I moved through my normal daily routine in a sort of numbness, thinking mostly of all the memories that RENT entails for me, and how the first and only time I saw it on Broadway was indeed, a treasure. There was a period of sorrow and disbelief, followed by a gradual acceptance. I ended up turning on the OBCR and listening to the show all the way through, getting the exact catharsis I needed.  
Even now, I feel sort of detached. The idea of RENT no longer being on Broadway, of the Nederlander sans Jonathan's music... that still may seem a bit unreal to us. But everything that RENT is and will ever be, all that it taught me, every way that it changed me, every minute performed on the Nederlander's stage, every lyric sung... that is real. What is real is that yes, RENT is the seventh longest running show on Broadway, and yes, it's been around for twelve years... but the thing that is even more real: the ways that RENT has touched the souls and altering the lives of so many. When it comes down to it, RENT isn't over at all. Because RENT is forever immortalized within each and every one of us.

So in reality, all that's left to say is: Thank You Jonathan Larson.

Remember the love... for the story NEVER ends,  
Let's celebrate, remember 12 years in the life of RENT.

-x Rajah x

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"Closing time -  
Every new beginning  
Comes from some other  
Beginning's end."  
-"Closing Time", Semisonic

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Good day to you, RENTheads.

It is I, Roger Davis. I feel pretty comfortable saying "Good day" to greet you, even though I know you are hurting, and you're probably like, "ROGER, HOW DARE YOU SAY 'GOOD DAY' TO ME UNDER THESE CIRCUMSTANCES! IT IS QUITE OBVIOUSLY NOT A GOOD DAY, YOU LOVABLE OLD DUMMY HEAD." Say what you please. Just hear me out. Here goes... here goes... ah, crap, I Should Tell You, not again...

Anyway, I have become quite practiced in the three Fs: fuck, fuck, and fuck.  
I know what you're thinking: _Roger Davis, this isn't exactly the most eloquent way to begin a formal address. _To that I say: _I don't tell you how to live your life, do I?_ Now that that's out of the way, Fans, RENTheads, I have been elected to address you all in the wake of us closing on Broadway.

Now let me tell you, my initial reaction to the news that the rug was being pulled out from underneath us at last wasn't pretty. I certainly used those three Fs I talked about earlier. And I can assure you, the rest of us Bohos were all as shocked as you at first.  
It all came quite suddenly. One minute, I was sitting in despair, trying hard to recover from the last MarkRoger romance fanfiction I had been in, and I felt a hand upon my shoulder. Mimi's voice told me in a reassuring tone, "Cheer up, things could be worse."

At the time, it seemed unfathomable.

But sure enough, things got worse.

At least that's how it seemed. It was like detachment from reality. We all gathered together and tried to figure out what was happening.

Mark was the most optimistic of us all. Gotta love Camera Kid. When he finally found words, he stood up, stripy scarf dangling from his neck in a lopsided fashion. "Listen guys, this isn't the end. We really aren't over. We just have to have an open mind about all this."

The trouble with having an open mind is the danger of all your brains spilling out when you least expect it to. I for one, wasn't ready to take that risk just like that. I was insane enough already.

The news that the Nederlander would no longer house us was devastating to me, for as all you RENTheads know well, I do not take kindly to shattering upheavals.

The twelve years of us being part of the Broadway phenomenon was like riding on a cloud. I think we all got a bit lost in it, and when we all floated to the ground, we were lost.

None of us were completely in our right minds. I know for a fact that my left mind got really crowded as I listened to the other Bohos discuss the developments.

Mimi sat beside me, silent, until she spoke up abruptly, her voice airy and her eyes misted over with unshed tears. "Jonathan wanted us to see the bright side of life. He wanted everyone to... That's what we're about... that's why he created us. Jon wanted us to _be_ life."

Maureen, clinging to Joanne, lips trembling added, "Even now, we are life, not death."

At first, I had my doubts. I couldn't see this silver lining they spoke about. I had vivid images of us joining the vault of old Broadway shows... which I imagine to be some dark hole somewhere. What can I say, I'm something of a pessimist at times.  
Angel then threw an arm over Collins' shoulder, childlike glee still shining through her face even now. "They're right, you know. If they think this is the end... they're wrong."

RENTheads, this is where I am talking to you. It was at this moment that something hit me. We still WERE the bright side of life, some people just couldn't see it. I had thought of perhaps, in the interest of these souls, heading out with a bottle of Windex and polishing the DULLER side of life, but Mimi said I was taking things too literally again.

Like the time she lost her fishnets and in a panic, told me to comb the whole loft for them.

Then of course, she got mad because I broke more than a few teeth on her hairbrush.

But I digress.

The whole situation had seemed so downright dismal until that moment. I mean, I spent time pondering life after the first of June... a catastrophic hell. I pictured living alongside Sweeney Todd, Aida, and Chess... in the figurative cemetery of Broadway.

To be quite understandably honest, the whole concept was incredibly unappealing. I mean, I wouldn't be able to shave without Sweeney slitting my throat, and the whole idea of growing a scraggly ugly beard down to my ass disgusted me. And then there was the inevitable meeting of me and Radames... that guy is so irritating. Thinks he's really something. I'm obviously hotter than him... he lacks the plaid power.

So for awhile, I lay there, letting everyone else ponder, as I saw in my mind's eye long nights in the lonely abyss without the Nederlander. Lying there, homeless and derelict, staring up at the stars and thinking, "Where the fuck is the ceiling?" then, remembering that we weren't under the roof of a theater anymore.

And I thought life was some semblance of a pile of shit before! Pfftt. If anything was depressing, _this_ was.

But here's where the thinking cap comes in: the truth is, as saddening as us leaving the Neder may be, are we really leaving?

Physically, in body, yes. In mind, in spirit, in song? No fucking way, man.

And I can picture you now, RENTheads, thinking terrible thoughts, unsure of the future. What can I say, guys? I mean one day, we were the mighty pigeon, soaring through the air, and the next, we were the statue the pigeon liked to shit on.

Is it right? I'm not sure I'm the one to judge that.

And I know, me attempting to bring to light the brighter side in this time may seem to you like shoveling the sidewalk before it stops snowing... pointless and unhelpful.

But I have to tell you, it being in our natures, we tried to get right to shoveling the dn snow. It was something gradual and by no means easy, but it had to be done. I mean, hell, we didn't want anyone slipping the mess created by this storm.

Haha, and Mark thinks he's the poetic one. Pathetic.

So I shifted from the idea of a horribly painful goodbye and began to pick up the pieces with everyone else. It's true, we'd have been a bit lost after some time... maybe even in a dark hole like the one I imagined, which brings to mind images of Mimi pondering the dusty nowhere-land with a finer pressed to her chin.

"I've been thinking flowers, maybe daisies...to brighten up the room. Don't you think that flowers, pretty daises, might relieve the gloom?"

Ah, RENTheads, I can read you so easily. You're thinking two things: "ROGER, WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM? YOU'RE NOT GOING TO SOME HOLE SOMEWHERE AND MIMI'S NOT GOING TO QUOTE MRS. LOVETT!" and also, "ROGER, YOU IDIOT, NO FLOWERS CAN SOLVE THIS CRISIS!"

Both are right. Only I'm not an idiot, thanks. I mean, ouch, that hurt, guys.

We're not disappearing forever at all. We can't leave, it's impossible. And yes, it's not flowers solving the problem.  
It's you, RENTheads. For when June 1st rolls around, and it is time for a sweet farewell, it's not REALLY goodbye after all. The life, our lives... lives on... in you.

Yes, your old pal Roger's getting all deep and meaningful on you. Don't panic. I'm feeling perfectly all right, actually.

You see, you all really have nothing to fear. There's no need for you to be afraid of losing us, because it'll never happen! You're stuck with us, forever... and you have been ever since that first moment, the first note on the piano of Seasons of Love, the first time you heard us sing, and also the 525, 600th time you did.

The fact of the matter is, the very second you embraced us, we hugged back.

We have this problem about letting go. I for one love hugs.

And even if we ever did have to truly die, we'd die in the attempt of living forever.

We have discovered the true path to immortality! We're fucking invisible.

If Superman were here, I could kick his ass. Come to think of it, that guy doesn't have any plaid either.

Man, I am owning the art of speech here, aren't I? I mean, damn. I'm so clever sometimes, really, I am. Even though sometimes people don't understand what the hell I'm saying, and neither do I. I can really be a beast at this.

The decision to put forth my nomination to cheer you all up is becoming clear to me now. It is also becoming clear that even in the face of something unprecedented and seemingly horrid, we Bohos, we RENTheads, we all march onward. I mean, I'm usually pretty good at remembering faces... but in this case, I'm making an exception.

I'm hilarious. Get it? Huh? Get it?

Fine. Stare and shake your head. I know you love me. I don't need overflowing and teeming masses of fangirls melting upon my appearance to tell me I'm loved.

See, all of this here that I've said, I'm not trying to be humorous. I'm just being dead serious in a funny way. It makes sense, never doubt the Davis wisdom.

Okay so, I'm thinking of possible rebukes and something comes to mind. Somewhere in the world right now, one of you is thinking, "BUT ROGER, YOU NUMSKULL, RENT IS ONLY GOING TO BE ON TOUR NOW AND THAT MEANS I'LL ONLY SEE IT WHENEVER IT COMES TO ME, WHICH IS ONCE A YEAR IF I'M LUCKY!"

Well, RENTheads, our little experience, our visit has become just that, honestly. Once a year, if you're lucky. Kind of like... Santa Claus. And you love him, right?

Sure, you'd be highly disappointed if Santa had once given you presents whenever you pleased, then suddenly decided to once visit once every 525, 600 minutes, but you'd be grateful that Santa came to you at all, wouldn't you?

That's right. So just cherish us all the more and wait for us to squeeze down your chimney.

Don't get TOO excited there, and take things literally like I tend to do.

It simply means, we're never gone, as said earlier. We stalk you, not just the other way around. And you know you like the attention. Ahah... I see a smile creeping out.

Have I triumphed? Have I convinced you of the truth?

More importantly, have I said too much?

Yes, one of you is now thinking, "YES, SHUT UP!"

The name's Roger, thanks. I love you to death, RENTheads, but please, call me Roger. I only thought "Shut Up" was my name for several years of my childhood.

Believe you me, that didn't help in making friends in grade school.

"Hi, what's your name?"  
"Shut Up."  
And then, the kid would run away bawling. I wasn't even a bully.  
I wonder if perhaps I should STOP getting off topic?

Here's the bottom line, everyone. I don't want ANY of you changing your outlook on us because of this. I mean it, if I see one of you do it... there will be hell to pay.

Ready for another piece of Davis wisdom?

I don't give a crap, here it comes anyway: I want you to keep loving us as always and not treat us as something fragile and prone to break. Not only does it make us feel warm and fuzzy inside, but you see, if you treat something with a revolutionary approach, play around with it as much as possible, spread the love, kick it around a bit, it blossoms. It BLOSSOMS, you guys. but if you carry us around like something frail, we'll break to pieces.

Keep it going as it always has.

We love it, RENTheads.

I personally am infatuated with all the fans and RENTheads out there. I mean, otherwise, most of the things I like are either immoral, illegal or artery-clogging, but you guys are pretty cool.

And even though we were on Broadway for twelve years, whether that seems too small or impressive to you, or even both, one thing matters in this instance.

To a RENThead, it shouldn't matter how many years of life RENT had on Broadway. It should be the life within those years that matters most.

And since that life won't close with the Nederlander's RENT career, I should think you all be would pleased and proud of us, and yourselves.

Don't cry because it's over. Smile because it happened. Because it's STILL happening.

In the end, you hold our life, because Jonathan cannot.

I have become practiced in the usage of the three Fs: forgiveness, faithfulness, and forging ahead.

And with this impression of genius on my part, I end this address, my dear RENTheads.

It's closing time.

P.S. Mimi wrote almost this whole thing for me. I just improvised a bit to give it oomph.

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It must be noted that this was inspired by many inspirational greats, including, whether you believe it or not, Dr. Seuss.

This entire piece is basically my thoughts through Rogelio. :)

I hope you enjoyed it. Writing this was amazing, such a catharsis. I definitely needed this.


End file.
